Breath
by maximoffsquared
Summary: "I'm retiring, from the Avengers, from all of it" A canon-divergent fic that follows Wanda Maximoff after she decides to leave the Avengers, mid-CACW


"There's no decision-making process here...we need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, we're boundaryless, we're no better than the bad guys,"

I can't help the bitter laugh that escapes my lips, its loud, raspy sound pervading the tense atmosphere of the room. In an instant, all eyes are on me, but for the first time I don't shy away from the attention.

"You think this is funny?" Stark's voice is angry, the ever-present ego he carries bleeding into his words. I stand up from where I sit next to Vision, smoothing out my dress as I get my bearings. I can feel Stark's eyes on me, I can feel everyone's eyes on me and finally, after a few moments of tense silence, I know what to say, what I've been needing to say for nearly a year.

"No, I think you're a hypocrite," I deadpan, looking Stark square in the face. His eyes are angry, guilty, burdened, and for a split second I feel sorry for him. I mentally curse myself: now is certainly not the time to be sympathetic. My hands are shaking and, in an effort to calm myself, I begin twirling the hem of my dress, methodically wringing it around my fingers. My eyes have come to meet the ground again and I can feel my burst of confidence beginning to falter, the pressure of everyone's stares starting to deter me.

"Oh really, well that's just great! Do elaborate on how horrible I am, former ally of Ultron, member of Hydra! Or did you forget that when you decided to hate me? You're no better than I am!" I can feel the red flash into my eyes at the mention of his name.

"Tony, that's enough," Steve's voice would be deadly, if he were anyone else, instead it's just threatening. I know Stark's right ,not about the Accords, not about most things really, but about me? He's spot on. I feel my hands beginning to tremble, the red threatening to spill out, but I won't let it, I can't let it.

"You're right," I say shakily, my voice much duller than I intended it to be. I raise my head, straightening my back and looking right at Stark. For a moment I see myself in the darkness of his eyes, for a moment I forget everything he's done and I finally see him. But it's much too late, unfortunately for everyone, especially me. "I am just like you, in fact, we're exactly the same!" My voice is menacing now, threatening. It seems that everyone chose this moment to remember exactly how much I'm capable of. "So you better stop pretending to be some saintly prince, an all-knowing god, because everyone knows Wanda Maximoff is the devil, she's irredeemable!" I raise my hand from when it rested at my side and poke him in the chest, my anger towards him, towards everything he's done combining in this one moment. "If I'm a horrible monster, that makes you one too, don't forget that Stark." I shove past him, needing desperately to get out, to get some air. I feel someone stop me, grabbing my arm with gentle strength: Vision.

"Wanda, please, calm down and we can all talk this through," his voice is calm, peaceful and so utterly infuriating in this moment, but never before. How can he possibly be so stoic, so rational, so wise all the time? My head is spinning, twirling itself into circles of memory, repainting everything from a different perspective, that soon melds with my own. I can see it now, all in one instant, what they think of me. I must've been standing there, staring blankly for a while, as the next thing I know is Steve calling my name. I fade back into attention, briefly turning my head to acknowledge him. I pull out of Vision's grip, taking small, slow steps until I am right in front of Stark, inches away from him. I stare at him for a few seconds, attempting to collect my thoughts, to process what I want to say.

"I-I've been able to blame myself for most things," I stumble over my words, muttering them so quietly I'm not sure if Stark even heard me. Confusion crosses his features for a split second, conflict evident in his brow, and that's how I know that he did. "Lagos, my fault, Sokovia, my fault, what happened to-" My breath hitches, my voice not able to speak his name "To him, it was my fault." Stark doesn't say anything, his eyes darting away from mine. I don't dare to read what he thinks, I'm not sure I even want to know it. "But what happened to my family, what happened to _me_ , that is on you," I spit, the venom in my voice matching that which flows in my veins "You made me who I am, what I am" I take a slight step back, inhaling shakily before I dare to continue. "I don't expect you to understand, how could you, but understand this," I pause, preparing myself how ever I possibly can for the repercussions of what I'm about to say, what I'm about to do. "I'm done." A silence momentarily comes over the room, and not even Sam is able to make a witty remark to break it, they all know as well as I do that this is far too serious a time for that.

"You can't just be done, it doesn't work like that, you're still going to have your powers, you can't change that" It's Natasha who speaks first, not unsurprisingly, and I notice that in all this quiet Stark has managed to sit himself down.

"But I can change what I choose to do with them, or what I choose not to," I lock eyes with her, and instantly I can tell she understands, at least to some degree, giving me a slight nod of recognition. "I'm retiring, from the Avengers, from all of it,"

I begin to walk out, taking long, quick strides towards the door

"I can't let you do that! They won't let you do that! You can't just walk away!" I hear Stark calling from behind me "They'll come for you, you know, you aren't even a citizen! Where are you going to go?" I smile, not daring to turn back around. If I do, I know that I'll stay, but I have to do this, I have to leave.

"I know, I can handle myself. Thank you for everything, it's far more generous than I deserve," Taking a long, deep breath, I saunter out of the meeting room, knowing for once what I need to do, who I need to be. It's liberating, freeing, and so utterly unfamiliar that I almost mistake it for fear. It's a mistake I never make again.

 **A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for reading the prologue to this story, I really appreciate it! The whole theory/idea behind this whole story is that I didn't feel that Wanda's past/her hatred for Tony was really explored/explained enough in the MCU, and thus this idea was born. This prologue might be a bit confusing, but as the story progress it will begin to make more sense as both Wanda and Tony's motivations will be explored. They might seem totally irrational and slightly OOC right now, but this is just the beginning of my humble perspective on what could've happened. The story will be told mainly from Wanda's POV but occasionally others will be thrown in. If you have any questions/comments feel free to leave them/send them to me!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark, Captain America: Civil War or anything else Marvel-related!**

 **(This was cross-posted to my Wattpad account under the same name)**

 **Much Love,**

 **Vallie**


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